How Much Is That Doggie. . .

Yes, anonymous, I probably should have a little dog as a role model. One thing I could really use is the ability to live in the moment. I contemplate far too much. It’s mostly happy contemplation, but mind-consuming nevertheless. And, sometimes, it’s just a “mad,” that I decide to stay on. I’ve never seen a dog do that—except for the times when Kelly doesn’t get any of my ice cream because it’s chocolate so she turns her back to me and lays on the other side of the room. And I like to think a dog doesn’t worry—but Kelly gets funny when she thinks you’re getting ready to leave and she may not be going with you. And I swear she’s thinking too much, too, when she keeps staring at you trying to figure you out or trying to tell you something and we don’t know what she’s “thinking.” But she does know how to enjoy what comes her way and run joyfully, barefoot, through the grass with the wind in her ears . She definitely follows Rule #1, "When loved ones come home, always run to greet them," and Rule #16, "When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently." I guess the idea of a dog as a role model and a friend is still a good one, but maybe Kelly is a little bit “human.” And if I had a dog, I’d probably be expecting it to be like Kelly and it would just be a little dog. Hmm . . . another thing for me to think about.

The Potting Shed

I am planting my tiny lavender seedlings into larger pots today. It’s been a while since I’ve handled such little plants. The first few seedlings make me feel like all my fingers are thumbs. I’m trying not to disturb the tiny roots while setting them down into dark premoistened potting soil in which I’ve made an opening just the right size for the new plant. I try to push the fresh soil around the roots without mashing them. It gets easier after a while and I develop a comfortable rhythm. Scratch growing plants to sell from my list of possible futures. But growing for myself is definitely right there on top, clumsy as I feel. Working with fragrant plants is an instant “high.” I water them and find I have no way to make a mist fine enough to keep from toppling the little plants right over. I run water into large flats and set the pots into the flats to absorb moisture from below. I make a mental note to buy a fine sprayer. I set the flats into my cold frame and cover them with window screen to provide some shade until they adjust to the outside. I plan to leave them in the cold frame until fall, at least, to allow them to develop strong roots before I transplant them again. A cold frame appeals to my nurturing nature. Providing a shelter for tiny plants evokes the protective feeling I experienced when all my children were small and cozy inside our home, protected from the storms outside. My cold frame is on the warm south side of my garden shed. It is bordered by wild Tartarian honeysuckle on the east side. Brown thrashers and mockingbirds fly through and provide a background of activity along with robins and cardinals. A pair of bluebirds gather nest-building materials. A wren is singing its lilting little song and the cat is asleep under the garden bench. On another day he will be working to control the bird population and I’ll have to work not to be mad at him, but not this morning. The red anemones are beautiful against their background of white strawberry flowers, the snow-in-summer is blending with blue forget-me-nots, the roses are in full bud and a soft breeze stirs bell tones from my chimes hanging from a copper verdigris sun under the shed overhang. I like to think my tiny plants love the world around them as much as I do.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

I spent a lot of time thinking at the beauty shop yesterday between reading “Oprah” and playing with the shop’s little Jack Russell, Max. This morning I was up at 5 a.m. and I played music and thought some more. I listed my many hobbies and interests and considered what I loved and didn’t love about working and not working. I “dug” below my first layer of hobbies to find what it is that I really loved about each one that might give me some insight into my direction for the coming year. I’ve considered going back to teaching, starting a craft business or simply just living. I found the common thread is my love of those things that stimulate the senses. I love good fragrances, textures and flavors. I also love freedom and life. I decided not to give up freedom yet. It’s a good list and I’ll check back with it often. My goal for last year was to get organized and healthy. I did. We created a TV/exercise/game room in our basement where I can now dance and enjoy good movies. I set up my sewing room upstairs where all my sewing, knitting and quilting materials are at hand. There is a little sitting area there for daydreaming over magazines and photos and for curling up with a good book. I have a second kitchen in the basement for crafting and food preservation.

My goal for this coming year is “joy and adventure.” I’ll enjoy my hobbies in depth. I’ll spend a lot of time on each of them. I’ll also spend lots of time being with people I want to be with and seeing some new places. For the rest of spring I’ll plant my flowers and herbs and furnish and decorate my garden shed and porches. This summer I’ll improve my swimming, learn to sail, and spend long summer evenings by the pool and on the deck. Will I go back to work in the fall??? I’ll let that thought just float around for a while. Now I’m going out to my garden shed and get started. My lavender seedlings are ready to transplant into pots and I have crowded perennials in the garden to divide and move.

Dig Until You Find It

Doggie Rule #15 says, "If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it."

I’ve reached my first goal of putting together my own exercise program, my own style of eating and nourishing my spirit. I’ve lost 14 pounds. I’m finding my waist again and my balance and flexibility are noticeably improved. I’m just where I want to be—on my own custom-tailored path to real improvement of health and fitness. My blood pressure is good and going down and my energy level is good. I’m ready to get rid of my books that discuss female fatigue, walking for health, etc., etc.

I’m going to tackle the next big question. Those who don’t care for deep thoughts, look away. I’ll be “digging for what lies buried” until I find it. I’ll be exploring what I want to do for the next year . . . after I go get my hair done.

I’ve been away for a week visiting my daughter and her little dog, Kelly. I’m energized from the change of scene and the great restaurants and harbor lights of Baltimore. We drove through neighborhoods where old stone houses were almost obscured by blossoming pink and white cherry trees and yards were filled with yellow daffodils and blue grape hyacinths. We drove past the ships in the harbor at night with the beautiful lights of city over water. We had Tapas at Pazo’s and shrimp pasta at the Macaroni Grill. We watched “Lost” with hazelnut/chocolate gelato from Italy—Mmmm. Every day Kelly and I walked around a quiet neighborhood where the air was cold but the people friendly. I kept dancing and I lost another pound. I’ve bought a dance/exercise DVD from “Dancing with the Stars” and enjoyed it immensely yesterday, but I still danced free afterwards. Exercise routines are effective but restricting. There’s a freedom of spirit I’ve discovered in moving to the music that’s missing in structured routines. I like doing both. And I like visiting the city and coming home to the country. I’m dreaming of my next visit when it might be warm enough to sit out by the harbor, watching the boats coming in with a cup of “Maggie Moo’s.”

I’m starting my walk this morning in sunshine, but the sky overhead is hazy and to the west the clouds are dark. I’m glad to have the sun for now. I feel a little high-spirited today as I see a bunny hopping down a trail. His powder puff tail zigs and zags, then he hops straight up and down and disappears around the bend. I’d like to follow him. But I suspect he has just stopped in another little bit of briar and weed. I want to think I’d have found a little opening at the base of a stump where he’d have disappeared and I could have lain down on the moss and peeked in to see a little family of bunnies painting eggs to get ready for Easter.

Everything is in bud this morning. Near the stream at the base of the white oak there are more little Hepatica buds almost ready to open. All through the open woods Cut-leaved Toothworts hold clusters of young buds. Here and there tiny leaves of Corydalis are coming through the leaves into the sun. Their leaves are similar to Dutchman’s Breeches, which I’ve never seen in these woods. New leaves of wild rose, Autumn Olive, and honeysuckle are starting to appear. And the field grass is just a little greener than yesterday.

Near the path to the stream, I see a Forsythia bush starting to bloom. I wonder who planted it there. There’s no house nearby. A few years ago it looked like someone was planning to build on that property. There were markers where a house might go and some of the land was mowed. Maybe the Forsythia was planted then along with hopes for a home. There was a bridge across the stream that a car could drive over. It has been broken down for a long time. There is moss growing on some of the old bridge lumber that is down in the stream. I feel a little lonely, as if I’m sharing someone’s memories of dreams that never happened.

Now I listen to sounds. A staccato beat nearby is loud—it must be the pileated woodpecker, either searching for food or hammering out a hole in a hollow tree to build a nest. We have a bat house in our yard that has never had bats in it, but last year there was a brand new hole near the top that had been chipped out by a woodpecker to make an entrance. Now I hear the woodpecker calling as it flies away to its next task. Another series of poundings off in the distance comes from hammers--people at work building something. They are too busy to be concerned with us here in these woods. As I walk further I hear various songs from birds I can’t name—then a loud caw of crows catches my attention. I look up to see two of them harassing a hawk. I have seen that before—sometimes the number of crows becomes greater. The schoolyard isn’t the only place that has bullies. I wonder why crows pick on hawks. Getting close to home I hear a variety of bird sounds coming from one spot. There is chirping, then warbling and tweeting and singing. I smile, knowing what I’ll see when I look up in the tree. It’s the mockingbird. I remember almost thirty years ago sitting in a rocking chair with my first baby in my arms on a late spring night with a window open to the soft breeze and the crazy singing of a mockingbird that went on all night long. Night after night the three of us shared the warm breezes. I’m happy to hear it again every spring.

My walk is over for the morning. I pick some daffodils to bring in the house.

“Hepaticas that pleased you so are here again” . . . Edna St. Vincent Millay

I saw hepaticas! I walked to the stream this morning (I’ve found the sound of a rushing mountain stream to be the perfect beginning to a day.) and on the way back I saw the leaves of hepaticas peeking out from the layers of brown oak leaves at the base of a white oak. I gently lifted a couple dry leaves and there were the little buds that will soon be the frosty blue petals of a little flower that takes me back to high school English class where I first learned to love poetry. The flowers are rarely seen in this area—like the fragrant trailing arbutus, they bloom early and are like a treasure to find. A morning walk that started out fresh and clear has turned wonderful. I walk back feeling the soft breeze and thinking I should always wear soft clothes on spring walks and maybe I should let my hair grow long and flowy.
I took my camera on my walk, but I didn’t have it “ready” when three cardinals flew in and out of a bright green Virginia pine in a flurry. What color! I did get a picture of the hepaticas that weren’t blooming yet and a spray of rose hips that had turned dark from last summer with little tiny leaves that weren’t quite out yet.

Ok—update on my “fitness program.” I am still eating the foods that are considered “superfoods” for health. Everything I eat is healthy and delicious. I am never deprived because it always seems to be time for the next meal or snack and I am eating so much flavor that I’m always satisfied with the smaller amounts. My food for today was-- breakfast: small bowl of Kashi heart healthy cereal with fresh strawberries and skim milk and a cup of tea, snack: small apple, lunch: shrimp creole over rice and broccoli and an orange, snack: small handful of walnuts, 3 tiny cubes laughing cow light cheese, a little white zinfandel with a strawberry, dinner: a spinach/romaine salad with cherry tomatoes, roman beans, gouda cheese, olives and onion with two slices of whole grain bread and dessert of vanilla yogurt with fresh strawberries. I drink water when I’m not having tea.
My exercise routine has become a daily walk outside in the morning with the treadmill to fall back on if the weather outside is too bad. Then I dance at least 30 minutes most days. My dancing has become more free as time goes on. Sometimes I sing like a rock star, but only when no one else is home. I randomly add yoga, resistance, pilates and stretches when I want to. Often I incorporate those within my dancing. It has been about four weeks now and I have lost 6 pounds and I feel wonderful. I have noticeably more energy. The dancing is definitely toning my whole midsection. I have two and a half more weeks and then I'll reconsider my routine to see whether I want to change anything. And then there's the reward I promised myself if I stayed with my routine . . .